


Cupid's Dart

by RomanDiget



Series: Good Morning sourwolf [4]
Category: Sterek - Fandom, Teen Wolf (TV)
Genre: Anal Sex, Explicit Sexual Content, Fluff and Angst, M/M, Non-Graphic Violence, Oral Sex, Romance
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-01-24
Updated: 2013-01-24
Packaged: 2017-11-26 17:31:09
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,001
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/652711
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/RomanDiget/pseuds/RomanDiget
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Derek plans a Valentine surprise for Stiles. Things go really well until moonrise.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Cupid's Dart

Just outside our back gate I found a wicker basket. Next to it a short arrow had been scratched into the dirt. Derek is uber suspicious but irony and metaphor are not his strong suit. That did not mean I couldn’t enjoy them. For ironies sake, I pulled my arms out of the sleeves and let the hoody drape over my shoulders as I carried the basket into the woods.   
At the little creek bordering our property there was a bottle of sparkling cider wedged in between the rocks. Where the path bent around a fallen tree a short pine plank and a sharp knife were waiting. The trail left the woods behind.   
This time of year California is lush and green. Purple vetch twinned between grass stems. Sky blue and violet wildflowers competed with rye and fox-tail grass. Along the path golden poppies were opening their first buds. Cresting the ridge two ornate wooden cups were nested among the flowers. These too, I added to my basket of goodies.   
On the other side the hill was clothed in white almond blossoms. This orchard was long abandoned but not empty. Seriously I’ve no idea where Derek finds this stuff, but he had a freaking Persian rug all red, gold, and lapis blue spread under the trees.   
I could smell the fried chicken and fresh bread from here. I could smell him. Being part of his pack, being his lover meant his strength was shared with me. It had been a little freaky when I first noticed my hearing and sense of smell getting stronger. Derek would never turn me without my consent, but neither of us was terribly gentle in the grips of passion. I’m fairly sure I’ll ask for the bite at some point, but it would kill Derek if he turned me by accident.   
It was Lydia that told me. She had spoken to Peter. Turns out nature or evolution or something gave us a little help. Being a werewolf’s lover passed some of their vitality to us. Derek didn’t have to see me to know I was close by. I let the breeze catch my hoody as I walked toward him. The flapping red cloth made him grin.  
It was a perfect picnic, new bread, sharp cheddar, fresh apples, all right out of a Rumi poem. This was my sour-wolf? A year ago if you told me Derek was a romantic I would have laughed in your face. Being with me hadn’t changed him so much as opened a door. It made me teary sometimes. Watching him love me, watching him grow. I understood dad a little better for seeing Derek do this. I wondered that Scott and Allyson did not have it. They could barely keep their hands off each other but they did not have this.   
“Nope! You are not allowed to think about anybody but me today.” Derek’s fingers tangled in my hair as he pulled me down for a long kiss.   
It never failed; he made me breathless, awed me, and swept me along like a tide. Derek had me out of my clothes in moments. It was full-on afternoon; anybody wandering around could see us naked here. He didn’t seem to care and I could not make myself. He devoured me, fingers to toes. 

It was different seeing Stiles naked in full sunlight. He is fair, but in a butter cream sort of way. Lacrosse practice added muscle to his frame, but it was wiry muscle. The Aikido classes I had suggested had added flexibility. He was always going to be outmatched in physical power both on the field and in a fight but he was learning to turn the strength of his opponents to his advantage.   
My boi was beautiful. I knew what he looked like naked, but sunlight lent him a glow I had never seen before. His hands wrestled with my buttons. My hand found him instinctively and he gasped as fingers curled around his length.   
The silky skin over the throbbing hardness distracted me. Stiles applied his new skill and overbalanced me. Heels locked behind my knees he rolled with me. Then he was sitting on my chest with a wicked grin.   
“So… want a taste of cupid’s arrow?” He didn’t need to ask twice. My hands were already on his hips. My fingers curled around Stiles ass, pulling him toward my mouth. He let my tongue and lips play with his hood a few moments before sinking into me. The knob rolled over the corrugated roof of my oral cavity before it reached the back. Then I swallowed him.   
He wheezed in a most satisfying way, and tried to back-out but I was having none of that. I let the muscles in my throat flex and spasm around him. Stiles ass muscles clenched in my hands, the tremors raced up his spine. I controlled his trembling withdrawal till only the tip was still in my mouth. He spewed over my tongue. Sweet as peppermint, I wasn’t so greedy as to swallow all of it.   
Predictably, he wilted over me. That was fine. I rolled Stiles onto his back and pushed his thighs toward his shoulders. He squeaked one of his happy squeals. I’ve no idea if he has gotten over being embarrassed by his sex noises and he would never admit it if he did. For me they are a treat, almost as good as watching his face while I slide into him.   
I drop my face into his slot, already drooling. His cum coats my tongue and I drive that into his centre. My boi is still tight, but practice has taught his body how to respond. It’s only a few minutes before he blooms for me. I add the remainder of his load then, pushing it deep inside.   
Stiles is wheezing again. Whether he realizes what I’ve done or not doesn’t matter. My knees wedge his leg open wider as I line my cock up with his hole. Deep violet meets fresh pink, dawn meets twilight, the colours give me a moment to appreciate how beautiful we are together.   
Stiles hips shiver, anxious to be filled and I sink into him. The glide is exquisite; he quakes and trembles around me. This is the good kind of tremble. He told me once: it’s like regaining his sight after being lost in utter darkness.   
My stones meet his upturned hips. Every hair on my body lifts on the electric tingle that flows through our joined flesh. I see the little blue sparks dancing across his scalp, flashing off the ends of lowered eyelashes. I don’t think he knows yet that his magic manifest visibly when we have sex. I am not going to tell him.   
He suspects and is almost certain I will not like it, but he is wrong on that count. This is his. This is Stiles strength, his power; I will not grudge him that. We are creatures of magic we two. That is why we work. No Alpha has taken a human lover, not as far as we know. Peter thinks it is the combination of us that makes Stiles magic.   
The tricks Deaton taught him, that was human stuff. Stiles has morphed into something else entirely. Deaton admits as much. He also swore on his oath as a Guide that these skills would not put Stiles in any greater danger than before.   
Stiles trembles under me, around me, he fills my heart the way I fill his body.   
***  
The days in February are still short. Moonrise came and the stars followed. Derek burned like a furnace. But my Dad would worry. Nasty things kept creeping into the pack’s territory. People died, disappeared or turned into vegetables with scary regularity.   
Derek rumbled in my ear. The note of rage made me flinch. Then the pack bond throbbed, anger, fear, confusion. I was scrambling for my trousers. Derek could wolf-out but I needed cloths to go scrambling through the woods.  
Derek was on his feet equal parts anxiety and anger. He was afraid to leave me unguarded. The lance of pain through the bond made both of us hiss.   
“Go! I’ll be fine…” He didn’t believe me, but he had to trust me. Before he was as far as the orchard boundary he was on all fours, flying Cheetah fast. I wasn’t far behind him.   
Not, what Derek would have wanted. He expected me to go home and wait for him. As if! I wasn’t supposed to be sensitive enough to distinguish one pack member from another, but I had known Lydia almost my whole life. I needed no ‘stinking pack bond’ to know she was in trouble. But I took Derek’s cue as to which direction to charge.   
We were running through the forest in no time. With just my human senses I would’ve stumbled through the dark at a snail’s pace. Enhanced by the pack bond, my legs opened in a full run. Trees hurtled past me faster than I could have reasonably expected even in daylight. Instinctively I ducked low hanging branches and hurdled fallen trunks.   
Giving myself up to the bond I threw myself to the ground and rolled. The silver dart passed overhead right where my heart would have been. Rolling to my feet, salt and rowan ash flew from my hand catching the archer full in the face. He screamed.   
I left him writhing in the duff without care, hearing Derek’s battle roar just ahead of me. Moonlight lanced down through the trees. Derek was rolling on the ground jaws locked on the neck of the biggest Rottweiler I had ever heard of, it was pony sized. His grip was firm but even fully wolfed-out his jaws were not big enough to get a death grip on the thing.   
Lydia was perched up on top a boulder, her back to the sheer rock face of lovers-leap. Jackson crouched below facing two more hell-hounds. He was bloody and torn but standing on his own feet. Worse his eyes had turned Kainama yellow, though otherwise he looked fully human. We thought he was cured.   
Something rushed me from behind. I dropped to one side and its leap carried it into the moonlight. Almost, I froze in shock. It was an elf. A goddamn fucking Tolkien elf.   
Salt and ash flew from both hands as I pivoted a banishing sigil in my mind’s eye. The hell-hound’s screams were even more piercing than the elf’s. He fled, they burned, a sickly blue-green fire.   
“Well! That is some comfort at least.” Deep and musical that voice tripped up my concentration. The apparition that emerged from the shadows, made my jaw drop. Eight feet tall, silver hair cascading over his shoulders like water. Moonlight pale, clothed in nothing but that long hair. Elf-like, tall, inhumanly slim, pointed ears check. Slanted eyes, check, but if this was an elf Tolkien had missed the mark by a wide bit.   
He walked right through my banishing ward with no effect. He looked straight at me and winked. “Charming.”  
Derek and Jackson put themselves between him and Lydia. They were ready to die defending her and I was pretty sure that was what was going to happen.   
“Peace brothers… I stand corrected. My daughter is not defenceless in this world.” 

“Come down child. Introduce me to your friends.”  
“Patter, you promised to leave me be.” Lydia’s eyes were sparking more full of rage than I had ever seen, but her voice was cautious.   
“And so I did. These are not mine.”   
“Oh really… and who else commands the Hounds of Arwen?” Her voice trailed off its condescending tone and Lydia’s eyes widened.   
“Just so, my child. Mab has learned of your existence.”   
This was frustrating. It was also deadly dangerous. No meta-natural should have been able to cross that line, not like that anyway. Derek and Jackson looked like they were ready to charge this guy. Maybe Lydia would like to share?   
“Light of my life, who is this tool?”   
That got everybody’s attention, including tall and creepy. He loomed menacingly even as Derek shuffled behind him. That gave me a valuable clue. I still had contact with the barrier my casting. Stepping inside that energy sphere, I sealed it behind me and he vanished.   
Lydia started to scramble down from her perch. I waved her back desperately. We weren’t done. To her credit she got it, retreating. Way too much info to process and now I had a pissed-off immortal to contend with.   
Derek was growling, it was supposed to be menacing but I knew he was even more confused than I was. Lydia was human, or so we had all thought. Creepazoid had called her his daughter and she had not argued the point, which opened a number of possible explanations for the strange and wonderful Lydia.   
When a strikingly handsome man in a suit stepped out of the timber it was anti-climactic to say the least. “I called truce.” He sounded aggrieved.  
“And we should believe you on less than your word?” I owed him neither explanation nor courtesy, not until he offered both.   
“Lydia my treasure, would you please come down and explain?” There was more than charismatic persuasion in that voice. I could not protect her. Lydia short circuited my magic anytime she got closer than ten feet.   
To her credit she had no trouble resisting. Somehow she managed to look both relaxed and vaguely bored up on that boulder.   
“It is for you to explain. You are trespassing. You have attempted both deceit and compulsion against my pack. Your motives are never less than suspect and if it is truce you want then trust you must give us.”   
It was a very formal and ritualistic declaration and gave me all kinds of information without telling me what I wanted to know. Derek and Jackson were inside my shields, what those would be worth against a skilled and determined magical attack I didn’t know.   
“It is not enough I want to protect you?”  
“It is not to be believed that is your only purpose.” Wow that was harsh but Lydia clearly knew this character and her judgement of motive had always been sound.   
“Let me ask this then. Do you think your pack can protect you from Mab?”   
She stiffened. “They have managed so far.” Pride and confidence practically dripped off her tongue. And she was bluffing, which worried me not a little.  
We’ve gone against some real nasty stuff, Peter Hale being a psychotic alpha, Jackson as Kainama, Gerard Argent’s treachery, the incubus, Alexandra and her pack of alphas. But I was reasonably sure I would come up short matched against real magicians.   
“Luckily for them, I do not share your confidence. Lydia le Vat su de Oberon I summon thee to Oberon’s Court. Will you deny me?”   
Fuck… only a parent can pull that one. Never mind I had no idea about half of what he said. She wilted but only a moment before her spine was rigid again.   
“Your word and your honour that you will do them no harm.”   
“From me they have nothing to fear. Mab cares only to see you ended. Her eyes will not turn this way if you are not here.” I liked this not at all and from the snarling behind me neither did Derek or Jackson. Lydia was Pack, her place was with us.   
“I will not offer you peace again.” Tall and creepy looked at us with hard eyes.   
Derek shuddered and morphed back to man shape. Stepping even with me, his voice boomed on a note I had never heard.   
“She is our sister. Your claim is not exclusive.”   
In this seeming this guy could have been a movie-star but I knew it was only illusion. His true shape we had not seen and he had yet to give us any oath, either truce or for Lydia’s safety. But he paused to give us his full attention.   
“My claim is prime. I forgive your ignorance this one time. See that you learn better before we cross paths again.”   
It was a dismissal. And still he offered us nothing but air and shadow. I was getting seriously pissed.  
“Daughter of mine, make your farewells and let us depart.” Oberon if that was his name turned his back on us, walking back into the forest.   
Lydia scrambled down, as soon as her feet hit the earth my magic collapsed. She came to each of us in turn. Derek she kissed on the cheek.   
For me it was a long look. I could see she was not afraid. “Will you be safe?” I had to ask.   
Her answering smile was weak. “I will be safer.”   
For Jackson, it was much more as it should be. Foreheads touching they murmured to each other. Jackson shivered at what she said. I’ve never seen him broken hearted, hell I never thought he had a heart to break, but the grief in his eyes was plain as Lydia turned away.   
She walked away from us and our pack-bond throbbed. Shadow ate her slim shape and Jackson howled. It was a miserable sound.  
Moonlight was swimming and sparkling. Derek’s arm was around my shoulders. He clutched at me a little. The eternal prospect of losing one you loved was shoved down our throats once again.   
“Come-on, Jackson needs us.”   
He was maybe my least favourite person but Jackson was Pack and his heart was breaking. We couldn’t leave him bearing that alone. Even as our arms settled around his shoulders the woods shook with pounding feet. Isaac was first, followed by Scott and Allyson, Erica and Boyd were next. They converged on us in confusion. Then, Lydia’s place in the Pack-bond was empty. Now they understood, I could see it in their eyes. We could fill in the details later.  
This had to be the worst Valentine’s Day ever.


End file.
